


Seeking Acceptance

by Jarakrisafis



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-13
Updated: 2011-05-13
Packaged: 2017-10-23 23:12:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jarakrisafis/pseuds/Jarakrisafis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has never fit in, a science mech in a war frame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeking Acceptance

On the edge of a group of mechs a lone figure watches, always watching, since even if he stepped into the glow given off by the artfully arranged crystals they would still ignore him. Them, him, even before the accident he was only something to be tolerated, a curiosity, never part of the circle. He has always been the outsider looking in, never fitting in. Not where he was created and raised, nor here, where he lives and works.

Bored he moves away from the warm glow of imported Praxian crystal, out of the encircling buildings into the darkness of a simulated night cycle. He wanders aimlessly, no destination in mind until a voice, many voices, catch his attention. He alters his path till he comes upon a crowd of mechs. He has heard of gatherings such as these on the news broadcasts, rallies and demonstrations about the working conditions of the poor, if he remembers correctly it was the Kaon miners that started it. But the unrest is spreading, mechs angry that the Cybertronian council spends so much time looking after lower lifeforms instead of them. That they are being ignored in favour of forging ties with other races.

Boosting up to a low balcony he settles down with a twitch of his wings as he looks over the gathered helms. The mech at the centre is not what he expected. Gun metal grey and covered in the scars of a lifetime working in harsh conditions, but his bearing is proud, almost regal. He speaks of many things, tolerance, equality, and freedom for all Cybertronians, his audience shouting agreement and encouragement.

As the speech comes to an end and the mechs begin to disperse a quick snatch of conversation from some of the departing mechs catches his attention; they’ll be back here in eleven cycles. Perhaps... yes, he’ll come back, be here from the beginning. Settling into a comfortable crouch he muses on what he has just heard. Strange that he would find such a kinship with mechs he has never met, and may never see again, yet there was some power in the speech, a promise of something he has never had: acceptance.


End file.
